


So Afraid

by sesray



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel Whump, Episode: s13e23 Let the Good Times Roll, Feels, Hurt Castiel, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm Sorry Castiel, Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesray/pseuds/sesray
Summary: He hates looking at him like this. He hates that he hasn't done a good job to keep one of his charge’s, his friend, safe like he promised at the very beginning of the weird comradeship all those years ago when Castiel was just destined to follow orders and Dean to break them in every chance he got.





	So Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> Guess whose depressed ass came to post this after a week, because after i survived the masacre of my physics and chemistry exams this past week, i would like to share my pain into this
> 
> Enjoy please :^)

Castiel can feel tears prickling in his eyes. He is tired, his body is sore, his mind is restless and his grace is flaring with anxiety inside him.

Dean is in front of the apocalypse world Michael, spitting desperates cries to the archangel to save his brother and Jack. The despairing is sweeping in his tone, the words breaking with the urgency of crying. He is asking questions that the angel couldn't believe they were getting out of him. It's like 2010 all over again, but this time Dean is desperate and Castiel is no longer that powerful and stone cold soldier he was once.

He hates feeling helpless. He hates the feeling of dread, of defeat; the feeling of absolute hopelessness swarming around him. It makes him want to cry.

But he pushes the feeling away by grabbing his charge’s shoulder and flip him around until his face is the only thing he sees.

Those green orbs are filled with fear and sadness, something he hasn't seen in his eyes since Sam jumped to the cage. His stance is tense, almost at the beak of breaking down with his hands balled into fists, trying to put the tension and the intense emotions somewhere else.

He hates looking at him like this. He hates that he hasn't done a good job to keep one of his charge’s, his friend, safe like he promised at the very beginning of the weird comradeship all those years ago when Castiel was just destined to follow orders and Dean to break them in every chance he got.

Right now, he doesn't know where either of them stands. They both have lost a lot, made terrible mistakes for the sake of others, betrayed each other and practically died for one another. They, now, are both helpless creatures; one trying to do something deadly that would cost his life and the other trying to find another solution that wasn't _that_.

Castiel closes his hand around Dean's wrist, feeling his pulse point just beneath his fingers tips. He looks up at him, trying to find something that isn't tormented feelings.

“You can't do this, Dean” he says, as gentle as he can even though he wants to yell at him so badly so he could come to his senses. But he knew it wouldn't work, not like that.

The man is struggling with getting the words out of his throat, eyes watering as he sighs.

“It's the only way, Cas” he says and he has heard it so many times for the past years, that he can't help but feel annoyed by it. But it's not the case now when Sam and Jack are God knows where trying to fight the devil himself. “I have to do it.”

“Not like this, Dean.” he tries but he knows Dean has already set his mind on it and as he wished he could change his friend’s decision, he couldn't. It was that simple.

The man swallows the answer and looks at Castiel with sorrow and regret, and he tries so hard to not shed a tear but the suppressed feelings, the desperation, the pain and the sadness are too much for him. A lonely tear rolls down his left cheek as he mouths an _‘i”m sorry’_ because if he mutters a word, more tears will come down and he won't be able to stop it but Castiel has already forgive him because he knew that dreading his friend decision from now on would not bring any kind of accomplishment.

The angel raises a hand and crosses his thumb over the wet track the tear left, washing it away and when he is to pull away, Dean’s hand comes to cope his and squeezes it, like he is begging for strength. He does a small squeeze and turns his face to plant a small kiss in the center of the angels palm. Castiel holds back a gasp and stares at his charge in wonder, and sadness.

Dean lets his hand fall with it, Castiel's.

He looks at the angel with a pale face, but his eyes are screaming panic, adoration and many more things that the angel himself can't describe because of how fast all of this is going.

He opens his mouth and lets out a shaky sigh.

“i love you” he blurts out and the angel knows, he always knew.

Dean turns around and exchanges words with the archangel before taking a shaky breath and blurring the word Castiel has been trying so hard to prevent him to say for all that year the world was plagued with demons and bad angels and the apocalypse was trying to be stopped by two mortal but brave brothers.

The light of an angel possession is bright, so even him as an angel, he closes his eyes for a while until the lights fades away to the semi-obscure bunker.

Dean is knowhere to be seen and the vessel that Michael wore is slumped in the concrete floor, bleeding into it.

Castiel stares at it, feeling a hollow inside of him and the need to _scream, cry_ and _beg_ it is so overwhelming that he does the only thing he can do.

He _prays_. He prays to his asshole of a Father for his family, for Jack, for Sam, Dean. He prays with rage, sorrow, hope. He screams at his Father with all the might he has, tears rolling down like an stream in his face. He _screams, cries_ and _prays_ until his human voice is no longer audible, the vocal cords are sore and his throat hurts like he has been strangled.

 _He is tired_. His eyes still bursting out tears, his heart is painfully beating, there is a knot in his throat, and he is _so_ very tired and _so_ scared.

He slumps in the steps that lead to the library and hugs his knees closer to his chest. He puts his head down and cries silently, not a single sound being heard.

He sends a final pray as his hearts aches and his grace feels like is in pieces. He feels like a human all over again; tired, helpless and afraid. He knows he won't be heard but he likes to think he would listen.

_Come back to me, please. Just— please._

**Author's Note:**

> I recommed to you all to listen to Janelle Monaé's album, Dirty Computer and also the track "so afraid" (the one i based this entire drabble). It's so good and you should appreciate it
> 
> [tumblr](http://sesulxx.tumblr.com)


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